This Child of Mine
by Rosy Sky
Summary: Voldemort didn't die in the battle of Hogwarts and now Hermione is being called away to help win the war, leaving her infant daughter in the hands of Draco Malfoy. Wait – what?
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: So basically, almost everything that happened at the Battle of Hogwarts did happen, except for the bit where Harry goes into the forest after Voldemort. He was detained somehow, or something, but the point is, Voldy's not dead, and the war rages on. Hermione and Ron, caught up in the giddiness of still being alive, of being young and in love, (and maybe of being caught in a teenage pregnancy? Who knows…) impulsively got married a while after. Baby Rose came along nine months later. It's been six months since then, making Rose exactly that age and Hermione twenty years old. Unfortunately, about a month after Rose was born, Ron got caught up in an ambush and was killed by an unknown Death Eater. Another thing that went differently at the Battle of Hogwarts (I'm going to go between movie canon and book canon, though I try to stay with the books, for whatever suits this story better) is that Draco didn't come back to the dark side when his mother asked him to and is now with the light. However, he is still not trusted and has been posted at a sort of safe house on an island, along with a few other individuals, while Hermione is needed to help Harry in the war. Long story short, this is how we wind up here. Please enjoy!_

The waves are loud tonight, stirred by the strong wind and mixing with the rain. They crash on a small beach at the foot of a hill, warning this tiny island of the impending storm. On top of the hill perches a cottage, deceptively small and seemingly fragile against the bursts of wind, its shutters creaking with each gust.

Inside the little cottage, it's warm. Light pours from several branches of candles and from a fire, landing on the soft yellow walls of the room and on Hermione Granger standing by the window, holding a child in her arms.

"Mummy loves you so much, darling, so very much. For always – Mummy will always, always love you, no matter what," Hermione coos softly to her sleeping baby, rocking her slowly back and forth in her arms. "You are so precious, Rosie, such a beautiful, precious gift."

Draco Malfoy, absently tapping his wand against his leg, watches impassively from the doorway. He shifts from his position leaning on the frame, and takes a few more steps into the room, crossing his arms. "Granger. You should be going. They'll be at the rendezvous point very soon."

Hermione frowns slightly, still staring down at her daughter. "I know. I just-" she pauses, running a finger down the child's face, and then looks up at Draco. "Will you…will you promise me something? I don't mean to ask anything more of you, you're already doing so much, but I just need a…reassurance, I suppose." He nods, and she looks back down at the child, her face pinched with worry. "You'll find me, won't you? Find me, contact me somehow, once the war's over or if –" _No. That thought is too horrible to even complete._

"Nothing will happen to her. And of course I'll find you once the war is over. You'll have her back in no time," Draco says reassuringly.

"And if…and if something were to somehow happen to me, will you tell her what I was like? I know that you and I haven't always had the most…amicable…relationship –"

He snorts. "Understatement of the _century_."

"– but you've got to have some sense of who I am." She glances up at him. "And tell her about her father. Tell her that he wanted so badly to be with her, but that he died fighting so that the world would be free, so that all the other parents could be with their children. Tell her that I was fighting for that too, that I desperately didn't want to leave her but that I had to. Tell her that we loved her so much, that we will _always _love her, no matter what."

"Being a mother definitely brings out the sentimentality, I see." Hermione raises an eyebrow at Draco, and he sighs. "I promise. Of course I promise. And nothing's going to happen to you. You'll come back fine and be her mother. And I won't be stuck on permanent baby duty. No offense or anything, but I'd rather you be mommy than me."

She laughs once, and then looks up, sighing. "Thank you, Malfoy." Leaning down, she presses her lips to the baby's forehead. "Goodbye, my darling girl. I will see you so very soon. Be safe. Be strong. I love you more than anything, and I will love you for always." Hermione gazes down into the girl's face for one moment longer, and then carefully places her into Malfoy's arms. "You take care of her, you hear? And God help you if I come back and you've turned her into some little Slytherin or have her calling me mummy Mudblood or something."

"Mummy Mudblood? That's actually rather good, Granger, thanks."

She ignores him, still standing there, staring at Rose as if she can imprint the picture of her daughter into her brain forever. "Well. I should go. But truly – keep her safe. _Please._ She is my whole entire life. I am endlessly in debt to you, Malfoy, for doing this, but just keep her safe."

He scoffs and turns around into the next room, walking to stand by the doorway, Hermione following him. "I'm not just any old wizard, you know. I happen to be rather special when it comes to magic. Besides, we're on a tiny bloody island in the middle of the gigantic bloody ocean. Nobody's going to find us. She'll be fine." Hermione is still staring at her baby, and he nudges her shoulder, causing her to look up at him. "Now, you really need to go, if you want to meet them at all."

"Right." She gazes down at Rose again

"Going requires moving, Granger," Draco says, gently pushing her towards the door. "She'll be safe. You know she will. Now bloody go."

Hermione stands in the now open door for a moment longer, gazing at her baby, and then she looks up at Draco, smiling tightly. "Goodbye, and…thank you." She turns, shutting the door behind her. He waits a moment, listening. Then the crack of her apparition sounds above the waves, and she is well and truly gone.

_Let me know if you've got any suggestions or ideas! Really though, any reviews would be nice to get. (Hint hint, nudge nudge.) Anyways, I'll try to have the next chapter up soon, so that we can see if this story will actually go anywhere._


	2. Tiny Little Human

_So, here we are. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the prologue – you give me happy feelings :) To let you guys know, I don't make story plans, so I'm not exactly sure where this is going to go yet. I have some idea, of course, but if you guys have any suggestions, or if there are any characters that you would like to see me add, feel free to let me know! Also, I forgot to mention that Draco's not the only one living on the island with Rose. Various Order members will be coming and going, as well as there being some constant inhabitants. Draco's just the one in charge of Rose.  
Anyways, please enjoy!_

He is so screwed. Honestly, he's never been more screwed in his entire life. Not even when he was supposed to kill Dumbledore. Not even when he defected from the Dark Lord. Not even when he was a bloody _ferret_. Because Hermione effing Granger has trusted him – _him – _with her tiny little human. And he has absolutely no idea what to do.

It's not like he's had much opportunity to be around little children before, after all. His whole life, he's either been an only child, at school, or working for the Dark Lord. None of those are exactly environments conducive to learning how to care for babies.

And what is he even _doing _here contemplating his lack of childcare skills? At the very least, he should be somewhere helping to plan and strategize, using his insider's knowledge to help them. Don't they understand how valuable he could be to them? Evidently not, because even after a whole bloody year of not betraying them, he still isn't trusted. Certainly, they've asked him many questions, they've accepted all the information he's been able to give them, but there might be situations in which he would know what to do, plans which he and only he could make, places he could find his way around. And he knows that all the information they've accepted has been taken with more than a grain of salt, even though it has tested to be true.

So he's here, stuck on baby duty, in the middle of the effing ocean. And honestly, it's all well and good to act confident in front of Granger – it's actually sort of something his ego demands – but when he's faced with the actual fact of being _alone _with a _baby _sleeping in his _arms_, that bravado fades.

Rose stirs in her sleep, and he panics for a moment, thinking that she's going to wake up, but she's only shifting around. Bloody hell, he's scared of a six-month old.

He walks out of the entrance hall, back into the yellow sitting room, and slowly sits in an armchair, moving gently so he won't wake the infant.

He examines her tiny face for a moment. She is very, very small. Her nose, her lips, her closed eyes, her ears, everything downsized, but somehow flawless, unlike the face of an adult. Her pudgy little baby hands are curled into fists as she sleeps and he cautiously touches one with a finger, unable to believe that anything could be that tiny. Before he can withdraw his hand, she's caught hold of his finger and wraps all of hers around it, pulling it to her chest.

He exhales slowly. There's something…well, nice about the way it takes her whole hand just to hold one of his fingers. Something nice about the way it feels for her to pull it in, like it's comforting her. He lets her keep holding it.

It's funny, he thinks, how things change. After all, this is Granger's _kid. _Never once in his entire life until a little while ago had he ever though that he would ever hold, let alone be taking care of, Granger's baby. And it's the Weasel-Bee's too. _That _is hard to believe, looking down at the girl.

How did something this perfect come from the Weasel? Maybe all babies are just like this. Maybe Rose will grow out of it. He wouldn't know. Somehow, though, he doubts it.

* * *

He wakes up to crying. Disoriented, he opens his foggy eyes and looks around the sunny room, and then down to the baby still in his arms. He must have nodded off in this chair last night, watching Rose sleep. Now, though, she is _very_ awake, and screaming at the top of her lungs. What is he supposed to do?

Maybe she's hungry? Does she need something? Is it…oh god, does she need her diaper to be changed?

The old wandmaker, Ollivander, appears in the doorway. Draco is still uncomfortable at the sight of him, remembering the time the old man spent in the cellar underneath his house. Ollivander, however, seems to have forgiven and forgotten…mainly forgotten, really, as Draco is fairly certain that the man is not really all there anymore. (If he ever was.) "Having a bit of trouble, are we?"

"I…well, I mean – she just woke up and I – she's…"

"I'll take that as a yes. Here, Mr. Malfoy, give her to me."

Draco hands the squalling baby carefully to the old man, who holds her expertly.

"There, there, no need to cry. What's troubling you? Are you hungry, child? Or- aha!" He gently puts his finger in her mouth, feeling her gums. "Someone is teething." To Draco he says, "Go and fetch some applesauce from the fridge. And bring a wet washcloth too."

By the time Draco comes back with a bowl of applesauce and the washcloth, Ollivander has already changed Rose's diaper and stopped her fussing. His misty eyes twinkle as he shows Draco how to rub her tender gums with the washcloth, and then feed her. Once Rose has finished eating, he shows Draco how to change her diaper and give her a bottle of formula. Then he retreats upstairs, leaving Draco alone with the baby once again.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it, Rose?" He says, bouncing her gently up and down. "Babies aren't that bad after all, are they? All bark and no bite." No sooner are the words out of his mouth than the girl spits up. All over him. He groans, wiping regurgitated applesauce and formula off of his face. "I am _so _screwed."

* * *

Later that day, he's sitting on the floor of a room upstairs that's been made into a playroom, handing Rose differently shaped blocks to put in slots. She matches each one perfectly, of course. Her mother isn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing, and Rose seems to have inherited her brains. Suddenly, as if she can read his thoughts, Rose looks up and says, very clearly:

"Mummy."

Draco gapes at her. "You – you _talk_?"

"Mummy?"

"I…um, she's not – she had to leave."

"Mummy?" Rose stares at him with big blue eyes and he flounders.

"She'll – your mummy – she'll be back soon."

"Mummy!" Alarmed, he notices that her eyes have begun to fill with tears. "Mummy! MUMMY!"

"I – "

"MUMMYYYY!" She's sobbing now, beating a triangular block on the ground. "MUMMY!"

He awkwardly picks the thrashing baby up in his arms and rocks her back and forth like he's seen Granger do. "Shhhh. Shhhh," he says weakly. "It'll be fine. Shhhhh. Uncle Draco's here." He curses himself inside his head. _Uncle Draco_? What the fuck? "You're fine, you're fine, she'll be back soon." He walks over to a cabinet (a difficult feat because Rose is still squirming about, crying,) and searches for something that might calm her down. He spies one of those plastic rubbery things that babies are forever sucking on, and cautiously inserts it into her mouth. The speed at which she stops crying is rather frightening. "Oh. Okay then. Good."

She stares up at him, blue eyes watery, her face still covered in tears. Then she points imperiously back at the ground and he sets her down next to the blocks. She resumes fitting them in the slots as if nothing has happened. Draco sits slowly back down, still traumatized by the speed of her changing emotions.

"She'll need a nap soon."

Startled, Draco looks up. Lavender Brown is standing in the doorway.

"That's probably why she started crying."

"Well…okay. Thanks."

"I'm not doing it for you," she says, narrowing her eyes. Clearly she still doesn't trust him. "I just want to make sure Rose will be alright."

"Oh. Right."

"Hermione told me to help you figure everything out."

"Um…why didn't she ask you to look after Rose instead of me?"

"Because I'm leaving in a few days. I'm going back to help them. I'm finished healing." Draco knows that Brown had been attacked and nearly killed by Fenrir Greyback, at the Battle of Hogwarts. She'd healed from that, but had been attacked by him, _again_, at an ambush a few months ago. She has really awful luck, apparently.

"Oh. I see." He glances awkwardly away.

"You've no idea how to give her a nap, do you?" She sounds resigned.

"Not exactly, no."

Brown picks up the baby, gently tugging a block from her hands. Of course, Rose doesn't cry for _her_, only smiles, the rubber thingy falling from her mouth. "Malfoy, grab her pacifier."

"Um…her what?"

Brown glares at him again, as if it just proves that he is still a terrible person for not knowing what a 'pacifier' is. Then she points to the rubber thing.

"Oh." Draco grabs it and pops it back into Rose's mouth.

Brown walks over to the cabinet and pulls a blanket from inside, and then wraps Rose tightly in it. "Go sit in that chair," she says, gesturing at a rocking chair in the corner. He obeys, and she places the already drowsy baby in his arms. "Now rock back and forth, and once she's deeply asleep, put her in the crib. Hum or sing or something, if you will, it'll get her to sleep faster." She turns to leave.

"Brown…thank you," he says stiffly. He's still not used to people helping him, even after a year, and he is uncomfortable with expressing his gratitude.

She nods once. "I love that little girl. If anything happens to her on your watch, you'll have me to contend with." Then she leaves the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Draco looks down at Rose, who gazes right back up at him, sucking contentedly on her pacifier. "Who knew you could've charmed so many people already, huh, little Weasley? Can't even really speak yet, and you've got them helping people that they hate." She smiles, closing her eyes, and he begins to rock back and forth like Brown told him to. "I think maybe you've charmed me too. How strange is that?

When Lavender peeks back into the room a while later, she finds Malfoy and Rose both asleep in the chair, Rose gripping one of his fingers, Malfoy's arms curled tightly around her. Lavender shakes her head at the way the world changes, before closing the door and leaving them to their rest.

* * *

That night, once Rose has been put to bed and they've eaten dinner, Draco and Ollivander sit in the yellow room, Draco staring pensively out the window and Ollivander fiddling with some of his wand making tools. Brown is off somewhere else in the house, and, honestly, Draco's rather glad, because she still shoots poisonous glares at him every time she sees him.

He can't believe it's only been a day since Granger left him with Rose. It feels like forever, and he can only imagine what tomorrow will be like.

"Tired, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco glances over to see Ollivander smiling knowingly. "A bit."

"They can be quite tiring, children. So full of energy. That's why we try to give them wands when they're young, you know. So that the wand can recognize the energy, the magical signature of the child, before it becomes corroded and diminished like an adult's. It's important that a wand can see the true magical signature, for as you know, Mr. Malfoy, the wand chooses the wizard, and it cannot do so without first _knowing _the wizard."

Draco looks back out the window. "How did you know all that stuff?"

"Well, I am a wandmaker by trade, as was my father, and my father's father, and my father's father's fa– "

"No, not that. I mean the stuff with Rose. How did you know to do all that?"

Ollivander smiles sadly. "I too had children, Mr. Malfoy, a long time ago."

"What happened to them?"

"They were killed before the First Wizarding War by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. As was their mother."

"Oh. I'm sorry." He's just as uncomfortable expressing this as he is his gratitude, but he truly is sorry for the old wandmaker.

"Thank you, but it was long ago. I have made my peace." Ollivander looks shrewdly at Draco before continuing. "As should you, young man."

"What do you mean?"

"Wandlore teaches us that in order to perform the most perfect magic, we must first release any doubts or fears that we have that our spells will be unsuccessful. So too works life, except that in place of releasing our doubts, we must let go of our regrets and our guilt in order to live the most perfect lives."

"I have let go my guilt."

"Mr. Malfoy, your guilt rests upon your shoulders as plainly as does your neck. You must let it go, if ever you are to be accepted by these people, as you so desperately wish."

"I don't – "

"And now, Mr. Malfoy, I believe I will bid you goodnight. These old bones tire more easily than they used to." He rises stiffly from his chair.

Something occurs to Draco. "Mr. Ollivander? Why didn't Granger ask you to look after Rose, if you know how to take care of children?"

"Oh, but she did, Mr. Malfoy. I simply told Miss Granger that I thought you were rather more the 'man for the job', as it were. Now, good night." He smiles, eyes twinkling, and goes upstairs.

Draco slumps back in to his chair. "The man for the job? Where'd he get an idea like that?"

But as he resumes staring out the window, remembering everything that gives him his guilt, a tiny part of his mind, the one that's subconsciously listening for a baby's cries, can't help thinking that maybe Ollivander might be right.

_So, there you have it! Uncle Draco's first day of mommy duty. What do you guys think of Ollivander? I should have the next chapter up soon :)_


	3. Praetorium Revelio

_A note: as all of you most certainly know, during the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville has this super-heroic-epicly-awesome-kickass moment where he pulls the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat and WHAM off goes Nagini's head, destroying the final Horcrux 'cept for the Dark Lord himself. I love this scene to pieces, buuut as Voldy can't be completely vulnerable, in my story this didn't happen. Unfortunately._

_– Re-edited version –_

She stands there for a moment, outside the cottage.

She's gathering herself, boxing up the parts of her that are an anxious mother and stowing them away. It's hard, though, because they struggle, wanting desperately to race back inside and snatch up her baby.

But she can't. She can't, and she knows she can't, and so she forces that desperate desire down inside herself, because once she leaves here, nowhere is safe. And she cannot afford to be distracted if she wants to survive.

Leaving Rose here, where it's safe, is not only precaution, but necessity. Once Hermione leaves, members of the Order will place this island under a new Fidelius Charm - she won't know where her baby is, and neither will anyone else, save the Secret Keeper.

Rose will be kept safe, and Hermione, someone considered essential to the Order and the fight against Voldemort, won't be able to be manipulated or tricked by Death Eaters who would use her love for her daughter against her. Other people, those who would be specifically targeted by the Death Eaters for their knowledge, or for other reasons, such as switching sides, like Ollivander and Malfoy, will be kept safe as well.

Some Order members had been disgruntled by the idea of protecting Malfoy, considering him not worth their trust nor the effort it would take to keep him safe, but Harry had said that he must be protected - that they owed it to him, because of the sacrifices he'd made. Hermione knows the true reason Harry wants him protected - he told her what Dumbledore had said to Malfoy on the top of the Astronomy Tower the night of the first attack on Hogwarts, the promises he'd made about keeping Malfoy safe. Harry's clinging to those promises, his last memories of the man he trusted most.

Harry. He's the reason she's got to leave Rose here, the reason she's got to fight. He's her oldest friend, and now that Ron's gone, he and Rose are all she's truly got left. And he needs her, needs her help, needs her by his side. Together they can track down Voldemort and Nagini and end this bloody war. So she'll go, though all she wants is to stay, to have Rose warm in her arms, to watch over her daughter. Harry needs her. He needs her - so she has to go.

She grips her wand tightly, taking in the sound of the waves and the feel of the crashing rain for a moment longer.

_Deep breath, Hermione. Time to leave. _And so she does.

* * *

When she materializes again, the echo of waves still heavy in her ears, it's rainless and hushed, a thick drape of clouds stretching out across the land and the ocean, a chilly wind fumbling at her hair. This rendezvous point is Shell Cottage - it's empty now, Bill and Fleur off in France, but it's still a safe midway place, or as safe as you can get these days, anyway. Her watch tells her she's still a bit early, despite Malfoy's predictions that she'd miss them altogether, so she ducks inside the cottage, seeking shelter from the cold.

It's still and dim and full of memories inside, and immediately her mind goes to Ron. Thinking about him aches, as it always does, but she smiles drily in the darkness, imagining his reaction to the situation in which she's left their daughter.

Their _daughter._

They're still strange, at times, those words, Hermione thinks as she gazes round the cottage kitchen, remembering. Despite the fact that Ron's gone, despite this awful war, despite everything that's happened, sometimes she still cannot believe that she is a mother. That she, Hermione Granger, logical, pragmatic, sensible _Hermione Granger_, had gotten married on a _whim_. That she'd had a _daughter_.

Some small part of her mind still insists that she's much too practical to do anything of the sort. She would have thought that she'd _never_ have a child during wartime. But somehow Rose had come along anyway.

And maybe that - the war - was actually why. You come to see how temporary life really is when you're fighting for yours every day. When people are losing theirs all around you. She and Ron had gotten married for many of the same reasons that Arthur and Molly had - oh, they'd been in love, of course, but there was war, there was pain and dying all around.

Only, she thinks rather bitterly, as she does only too often these days, the whole dying bit hadn't really touched her in-laws, had it? No, that was left for their children.

Then the door bangs open and Hermione leaps from her seat, wand poised. "Hermione?" someone calls.

Any bitterness she may have been feeling is quickly washed away by the familiarity of the voice. "Ginny!"

They quickly verify each other's identity before warmly embracing, putting three months' worth of absence into the hug.

Drawing back, Ginny yells over her shoulder, "Boys! She's in here!" She turns back to Hermione, smiling. "Sorry we're late, Harry wanted to come and then threw a fit when we wouldn't let him," she says, rolling her eyes. "But you'll see him soon enough. And then we ran into a bit of trouble with a patrol outside of Wilpshire, but nothing unusual, they've just changed up the routine. Anyways - I've missed you! Leaving us for four _months_! I thought you were never coming back."

"I've missed you too! It's lovely to see – Neville! Seamus!" She embraces the two boys who've just walked into the cottage.

"Hullo Hermione." Neville seems much more like an adult than he used to, but they all do, really - war does that to you. Some of the bashfulness about him has disappeared, and though his old awkwardness still lingers, he's holding himself differently, straighter, almost.

"Blimey, Hermione, it's been _ages_!" Seamus is still Seamus, of course, though his hair's a bit longer than it used to be, and he too seems older. It's been longer since she's seen him - almost since the Battle of Hogwarts, she thinks.

Catching Hermione up with the goings-on of the past few months, the four of them trek outside, shivering slightly in the icy wind.

"…And she said _yes_, can you believe it? So now they're engaged, and off in France somewhere with Mum and Dad, and Bill and Fleur of course, helping out the resistance there," Ginny says, rubbing her arms in the cold. "And Zacharias Smith went over, did you hear? Foul git got threatened and was too much of a bloody coward to say no. Luckily he wasn't really in the thick of things Order-wise, so he didn't know very much."

"Side-Along Apparition, d'you think?" Neville interjects. "It's the simplest way to get new people there –headquarters are a bit tricky to describe."

"'Course, we can't take you straight in," adds Seamus. "Jinxes and counter-spells and such."

"So I'll just take you as close as we can go," continues Neville, extending his hand to Hermione.

She takes it with a smile, and they disappear.

* * *

When Hermione opens her eyes again, they're standing in a damp, mossy forest. Ginny and Seamus appear with two soft pops, and, seemingly at random, they and Neville set off into the trees. Hermione hurries to keep up with them, walking quickly through the dim woods.

"Where are we, exactly?" she asks, after they've been walking for about fifteen minutes.

"Can't be sure," replies Seamus. "It's different every time, see."

"Our headquarters – it's more of a camp, really – doesn't just stay in one spot. We got the idea from you and Harry and – well, the three of you," says Neville. "If we can't be found, we can't be killed, right? Well, hiding three people is a lot easier than hiding hundreds of them, so we had to expand a bit on the original idea."

"It's a sort of mishmash of spells…we invented it. Could've used your help there, Hermione, bloody tricky it was," Seamus adds.

_"_We got it in the end though," Neville says proudly. "Took us a while, but we did. There's pieces in there from all sorts of spells – the ones on the Room of Requirement and the Knight Bus, the Fidelius charm, something like the Portkeys, loads of others too."

"How does it work, though? It moves around?" Hermione asks.

"The camp is sort of it's own piece of space. The entire thing moves about the country on its own. It's unplottable simply because it's never in the same place twice, and it's invisible to people who don't know that it's there – that's where the Fidelius bit comes in." Ginny explains. "Honestly, we've no idea how it works. Flitwick said something about maybe the "collective will" of everyone who worked on the spell – which is basically all of us – helping to establish such a bigh piece of magic, but he wasn't sure."

"But that's incredible!" exclaims Hermione. "The creation of such a big spell…I wish I'd been here!"

Suddenly she's forcibly reminded of why she wasn't. It seems impossible that it's only been a few hours since she was holding Rose in her arms – impossible, really, that she's _ever _held her, she feels so far away. Something inside her chest twists painfully, and she sucks in a breath.

"Speaking of not being here, how is my favorite niece?" Ginny asks.

"Oh Ginny, she's _wonderful_. She's so big now – she can stand up if you hold her hands, and she can crawl. She can even say Mama! She's very advanced for her age, and _very _intelligent."

"No surprises there, eh?" Seamus says with a grin. "Her mam's only the smartest witch in her year."

"You must miss her terribly," says Ginny sympathetically.

"You've no idea," says Hermione. "I've not been apart from her since she was _born._"

"Who's staying with her, Hermione? You haven't gotten your parents, have you?" asks Ginny.

"No, they're still in Australia," Hermione says shortly. That's just another painful thing to think about. "I've left Rose in a safehouse. She's – "

But Hermione is saved from answering by a shout from Neville, who's gotten ahead of them and is standing on the crest of the hill that they're walking up.

"We're here!" says Ginny. "Stop walking, Hermione, the safety spells won't let you get much closer."

"How do I get in?"

Ginny hands her a metal bracelet. "Put this on. Then, when you get to the top of the hill, say the incantation _Praetorium Revelio_, and you'll be able to get in. Flitwick charmed the bracelet – I've got one too – to let you get through the protective enchantments, and it's also got a spell on it to tell you _where _the camp is, roughly, and what direction to go once you Apparate close enough."

Hermione clasps the bracelet around her wrist and follows Ginny up the hill. The sky is just barely light enough for her to see the broad, empty valley below them.

"_Praetorium Revelio_," Hermione whispers, and all at once the scene below her changes. The valley is filled with row upon row of tents, and a few low buildings, reminding her strongly of the camp at the Quidditch World Cup. But the _size _of the camp is what's truly astounding.

"How many people did you say were here?"

"About three hundred, give or take." answers Neville. "It's everyone who's a key player in the fight against You-Know-Who, plus some others. Shall we go down?"

Careful in the weak light, the four teenagers scramble down the hillside. Hermione follows the other three around the edge of the fenced-in camp until they reach a gate. Neville reaches forward, taps it with his wand, and swings it open, beckoning Hermione through.

"Welcome to the new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

_So a million billion years later...here we are. Please review! Thank you kindly :D  
Also, this is the second version of this chapter cause I didn't like the first version. Enjoy ;) _


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